


Keep Me Close

by orayofsunshine



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya has night terrors, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Sister-Sister Relationship, but not incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 09:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12767562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orayofsunshine/pseuds/orayofsunshine
Summary: Though she would never admit it out loud, Arya had night terrors. Terrible ones that made her wake up in a cold sweat with her heart pounding against her chest and left her never wanting to sleep again.





	Keep Me Close

**Author's Note:**

> Just a nice little fluffy one shot, hope y'all enjoy it!

Though she would never admit it out loud, Arya had night terrors. Terrible ones that made her wake up in a cold sweat with her heart pounding against her chest and left her never wanting to sleep again. Yet still exhaustion still came, seducing her, making her eyes so heavy she couldn’t help but shut them. Then every time without fail, the terrors would come. 

They were all different, yet the same. Sometimes she felt the sharp steel of the Waif’s knife plunging into her belly, ripping up her insides, burning like she was on fire. Other times she saw the Night King, riding Viseron over the battlefield, the dragon’s blue fire colliding with Drogon’s bright orange fire. She saw men screaming out to whatever god would listen on the battlefield, begging for mercy as the dead slashed and cut at their throats. One night she had the image of Robb’s body being defiled, head cut off his shoulder and topped with the head of his direwolf, mocked and humiliated by men that were supposed to be their allies. Sometimes she would see her father, on his knees with his head bowed as a sword swung down on his neck, sentenced to death for a crime he did not commit. Sometimes she just saw Gendry leaving again and again, leaving her alone in the world once more. 

No matter what the particulars of it were, the terrors always came and left her with a lump in her throat and hot tears streaming down her face. She hated it. Hated the hell her family had been through. Sometimes she wished they had never left Winterfell in the first place, so many long years ago. What had happened though had happened, and there was no changing the past. No bringing back those that were gone. 

The stone floor of the castle was cold on her bare feet as she quietly moved through the halls, silent as a whisper. She couldn’t remember what she had seen in the terror, but it was so horrible that she woke up and felt like she was dying a million different deaths. Like someone had sat on her chest, held her throat so tight that she couldn’t breathe even if she wanted to. Her heart thundered in her chest and her hands shook. For a while after she woke up, she had cried, unable to move. Eventually, knowing she would not go to sleep on her own and not wanting to be alone with her thoughts (because sometimes that scared her more than the night terrors ever did) she set out to find company. 

She was shivering by the time she reached her destination, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind her, barely making a noise. The fire in the fireplace had gone out, leaving only embers that did nothing to keep the room warm. It did allow a small glow that illuminated just enough for Arya to navigate through the room, even though she could have done it just as well in complete darkness. Upon getting to the bed, she quickly slipped under the furs next to the lump that was already occupying it. They stirred awake, turning over to see the intruder.

“Arya?” Sansa asked, groggy from sleep. “What are you doing here?” 

“Sansa-” She started, only to stop herself short. She had done this before, crawled into her sister’s bed when she didn’t want to be in her own, but that had been years ago. But that had been when they were children, and now they were both women and Arya just felt foolish. 

“It’s okay,” Sansa said, sensing her sister’s hesitance. “You can stay.” 

Arya shut her mouth then, turning over so that her back was to Sansa, and after a moment she felt the mattress shift under her and she knew Sansa had done the same. 

They said no more that night, and Arya wasn’t sure if she would ever want to talk about what she had seen in the years they were separated. It hurt too much, and was something she wished she could just forget. Arya inhaled slowly as she shut her eyes, still shaking slightly from her night terror. She jumped slightly when she felt something nudge her under the furs, but realizing it was just Sansa’s foot brushing against hers, a small reassuring touch to let her know she was not alone, she exhaled, feeling lighter than she had in a very long time.


End file.
